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An Interview with Balbir Mathir by Roderick MacIver

Sacrifice is at the Core of Sacredness.

An Interview with Balbir Mathur by Roderick MacIver

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Years ago I read this in a little newsletter called "Life Lines" published by the organization called Trees for Life:

At Trees for Life we experience miracles every day. Yet each time I am still amazed.

Three years ago Balbir (Mathur) and I were in a small village in Orissa, India. The villagers welcomed us with songs and flower garlands.

After introductions, the village leaders sat down with us. “Our land is very degraded and we are very poor,” they said. “If our children were educated they could get jobs, but there is not enough money for their school. It’s like a trap, and we can’t break free. What can we do?”

Balbir closed his eyes, listening intently with great reverence. Then he spoke.

“If you will donate some very poor land to your school, we can help you regenerate that land, and it can provide income for the school,” he said.

Several villagers started grumbling. “Our lands have been divided and passed down for generations,” they argued. “How could our people give up their inheritance?”

Balbir spread his hands. “Nothing comes without sacrifice. The more important the task, the greater the sacrifice.”

Treva Mathur

After reading this, I called Balbir, Treva’s husband, and asked him about sacrifice. This is what he said:

“From time immemorial, spiritual leaders of all faiths have told us that anything worthwhile requires a sacrifice. Nothing happens without a sacrifice. Sacrifice is such an essential part of the equation of life. In order for a mother to give birth to a child, she has to sacrifice. A sperm germinates an egg, it has to lose its identity. A seed, to grow, has to lose itself. A candle can only give light if it burns itself out.

“The act of religious fasting, by its very act, acquires sacredness. Sacrifice is the cornerstone of life. When we say that life is sacred, that implies that it demands sacrifice. Sacrifice is the core of sacredness. What we sacrifice is what becomes sacred to us. Without sacrifice, nothing becomes sacred.”

That village now has a school, as do nineteen other communities who followed similar courses of action. Trees for Life is a worldwide movement that encourages people’s inner potential through providing fruit and other trees to communities in developing countries. To find out more, visit their website or write to Trees for Life 3006 West St Louis, Wichita, Kansas, 67203.

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From Issue 10:

Occasionally someone passes through our lives whose message, we come to understand, can change our way of thinking and living. That doesn't happen often in a lifetime, even to the most adventurous and exploratory among us. When it has happened to me, my first response tends to be one of skepticism, but with the elapse of time, the message builds a power of its' own. I come to see how closely it fits the challenges of my life -- the parts of my life that don't work well. Then the struggle becomes to incorporate it into my day-to-day existence. There is always the option of turning your back on the message, but somehow you know that doing this means turning your back on life.

A few days ago I met with Frederic Back and Balbir Mathur. They are men of love and humility. Frederic made the film The Man Who Planted Trees, among others. Balbir's work is Trees for Life, an organization that provides fruit tree seedlings and training to rural farmers in developing countries: "planting love one tree at a time." So far a million people have planted fifty million trees. A friend introduced me to Balbir and I introduced Balbir to Frederic. Now Frederic is helping Balbir make a film about the work and history of Trees for Life, I have much to learn from these men. With them, one can feel the energy underlying our lives—that energy of harmony and forgiveness and love. I experienced it—really felt it, could almost touch it—with them.

I interviewed Balbir for a future issue of Heron Dance. Earlier, Balbir had briefly referred to the fortuitous events that are constantly helping him in his work. So during the interview, when I asked him about his belief in God, I was a little surprised that he avoided the question. An hour or so later, spontaneously, he said:

“I believe that most ”religious“ talk divides people. Religious conversion is often a form of violence, but, of course, I am in a spiritual rowboat.... I call my boat Surrender -- complete surrender to the will of the Greater Power. My two oars are instant forgiveness and gratitude -- complete gratitude for the gift of life.

“In addition, expressing myself through words has taken a back seat. The natural world and my art now occupy my thoughts and dreams. Trying to express myself and my life through my art has become the dominant aspect of my work life. I am trying to do with my art what I imagine in my mind. I keep thinking that I am close and then I sit down to paint and realize, “Auch! I am a long way away!” But, this challenge is what makes it worthwhile and a challenge I love. I believe if I just spend enough time at it, what I see in my mind will ultimately come out on the paper.

“I serve. I do the dance I must. I plant trees but I am not the doer of this work. I am the facilitator, the instrument. I am one part of the symphony. I know there is an overall scheme to this symphony that I cannot understand. In some way, we are each playing our own part. It is not for me to judge or criticize the life or work of another. All I know is that this is my dance. I would plant trees today even if I knew for a certainty that the world would end tomorrow.” Describing light to a blind man will not help the blind man. It is frustrating to put it into words -- like trying to put the dance of a butterfly into words. You can only describe the beauty you see. People who wish to see it will see it. Trying to convert others is a violent act and denies the beauty of the dance.

Balbir Mathur, Director, Trees for Life, an organization that has helped rural villagers around the world plant tens of millions of fruit trees. (October 1996, Heron Dance)

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From issue 11: Balbir Mathur: Planting Love One Tree At A Time

Trees for Life, Balbir says, is not an activity.
It is about gratitude for the Gift of Life
It came out of one man's surrender to his dance
It is about empowerment.

I met Balbir in Montreal where he was meeting with Frederic Back, creator of the film The Man Who Planted Trees. Frederic is helping Balbir make a film of his work. During dinner, Balbir explained that he was recently diagnosed with diabetes and couldn't eat fruit. That seemed ironic—that the man who has orchestrated the planting of tens of millions of fruit trees around the world—couldn't eat fruit. The next day, during our interview, Balbir started by talking about that.

“When you asked me last night if I could eat fruit you hit on something very important. We are not here to eat the fruit, but to do our dance. We do what we do because that is how we are designed. If I knew for a certainty that the world would end tomorrow, I would still plant a fruit tree today.“

I asked Balbir if the fruit of his work might be happiness, and if he was not eating that fruit.

"Considering happiness as a fruit is fine, but I think I would plant fruit trees even if I was unhappy. It is easy to get lost in the nuances, but we do not do an action because we are focused on the results. We do an action and take the consequences as they are. That is the journey. We act because we believe that the action is what we are supposed to be doing here, what our duty is. Planting fruit trees is my dance."

Balbir grew up in India, the son of an army officer. His family was Hindu. As a boy he had an experience that had a profound effect on his life:

“I was ten years old, riding a bicycle along a river bank. Since my father was an officer, an orderly accompanied me. Two Britishers came riding by -- eighteen, nineteen year old kids -- and I started riding with them. They turned to me and uttered an obscenity in Hindi. In surprise I looked at them and said `What?' At that they got down, and forced me off my bike and slapped me. Both of them. Very, very hard. I can still feel it. I looked to this orderly behind me for help. The orderly just stood there. The Britishers were the masters.”

At first Balbir wanted revenge. Over time, his anger turned to curiosity: What was the source of their power? Over the next forty years, Balbir came to see their power as springing from their command of tools. He came to understand human history as the history of tools. The people with the superior tools dominated, exploited and often exterminated their neighbors. First it was fire, and the humans that learned how to harness it gradually expanded their range throughout the world. Next came the plough which enabled agricultural peoples to dominate and often exterminate hunter/gatherers so that after a few hundred years, only a few, isolated pockets remained.

Next came the industrial revolution. As Balbir says:

"Motors and engines gave men a thousand times the power they had up until then, and the humans that possessed this technology quickly reorganized themselves and dominated all others who did not know this. People in India, when I was growing up sixty years ago, did not possess this secret. Agriculture freed large numbers of people from the daily effort to gather and hunt food, and industrialization permitted people to acquire and employ highly specialized skills."

“Because the planet's population was small, the information on fire took a few hundred thousand years to spread around the world. The information on agriculture took four or five thousand years to spread to all people. The information on industrialization has taken two hundred years to spread to most peoples on the earth.

“Since the Second World War, three new, major tools have been discovered, and each is as significant as the domestication of fire itself. The silicon chip has allowed the reduction of all information to either zero or one. If the power of the discovery of the plough was ten times that of the discovery of fire, and the industrial revolution at one thousand, the potential power of the digitization of information is one million times anything we have ever discovered.

“The second revolution is communication: fax machines, computers connected around the world, e-mail. This too is rated at one million. The third discovery is the understanding of the atomic process. If one activates two and two activates four and those four energize eight, in a very short time something big happens. We are just beginning to understand these concepts, and our societies are in the earliest stages of reorganizing around them. The powers we are just beginning to understand are not one million plus one million plus one million, but one million times one million times one million. It may take a hundred years to grasp their power.“

Since that morning several months ago, I have come to see many things in my work differently. When I am in prisons, I see people who lack a command of the new technology. When I am with kids in the inner city, I think of the per-capita expenditure on education, which is a fraction of that in upper income suburbs. Similar discrepancies exist in health care. When I hear of women in Indonesian getting $1 a day to make $100 running shoes, I think of the exploitation by those with the technology of those without it. So much of who we are depends on our relationship to the new tools. It cuts across racial lines—we are just as likely to find hopelessness in Appalachia as in North Philadelphia. Drug and alcohol abuse, suicide, child abuse, spousal abuse spring out of that hopelessness. Trees for Life empowers people.

Underlying the work of  Trees for Life is a spirituality, but I had difficulty getting a description of It. In India, and elsewhere, Balbir said, politicians use religious divisions to manipulate people and power. This is some of our dialogue on these subjects.

Rod: Do you believe there is a God.

Balbir: Who knows?

Rod: Does that mean no? You do not believe there is a God?

Balbir: I cannot answer your question. I am not a theologian. I do not understand those concepts. I do not live in those concepts. I do not worry about what others have to say. I have simplified my life to just three principles, which I try to practice. I cannot say I have mastered them. I attempt. I fall, I falter and I attempt.

This boat I travel in is called Surrender. I have nothing to achieve. Whatever comes is there and I enjoy it. The two oars that take my boat—one is instant forgiveness. I get angry, I get mad, but as soon as I remind myself to put my oars in action I forgive. The second oar is tremendous gratitude. I am thankful for the experience of this life, for the opportunity to dance.

Rod: To what do you surrender?

Balbir: The act of surrendering is so important that who you surrender to becomes insignificant. It is the surrender itself that is important. At different times you surrender to different things. Whatever it is, we will enjoy the moment the way it is. Call it God, call it Spirit, call it the love energy, call it by whatever pigeon hole you want—but you surrender to life as it is, without demanding anything. If life is the master, I am the dancer. However I can serve, I do serve.

Rod: There seems to be a recognition that there is a spiritual force involved somehow.

Balbir: Yes, but those that experience it need no words and for those that cannot, words will do no good. Why talk about it? Describing light to a blind man will not help the blind man. It is frustrating to put it into words -- like trying to put the dance of a butterfly into words. You can only describe the beauty you see. People who wish to see it will see it. Trying to convert others is a violent act and denies the beauty of the dance.

Rod: How much connection in your life is possible with people who cannot see the beauty? Do you forget about them?

Balbir: No. Oh no. I dance with them just as I dance with those I have a connection with. A man who cuts trees has just as valid an experience as one who plants a tree. The dance, the orchestra of the spirit, needs all instruments, including those who play different tunes. I cannot see the mystery. I cannot see what the Master is doing with the orchestra. I play my instrument as well as I can. I won't let my part in this orchestra fall down. The drums might not sound good to someone playing the piano, but that drum has just as valid a reason in that orchestra as anyone else.

Rod: But some people give you energy and some take it away. How do you relate with people who take it away?

Balbir: There are two aspects -- the physical and spiritual. In the physical realm we have such limited time energy. That is reality. Psychologically you can be friends but lack the time and energy to spend with them. There is no contradiction in that.

You have left one shore and you need all your energy to get to the other side. You need not be dragged behind by the other energy. One day you become a bridge.

Rod: Do you believe we get help in our work?

Balbir: Not help in my work. My work is dictated. I am a servant. I am not the doer. The moment I become doer, I have failed.

Rod: Do you experience synchronicity in your work?

Balbir: All of the time. Not some of the time -- all of the time.

Rod: How do you raise money? Does that side of <em>trees for life</em> take care of itself? Do you ask people for money?

Balbir: I share the information with people as simply as I can, and when it comes, it comes and when it does not come it doesn't come. We are not dependent, we cannot become dependent. We must not ask. We are not beggars.

Money is critical. That is the reality. One cannot be for it or against it, but one has to understand its role. We need money like we need a skin on our body, but my skin is not my soul. The confusion occurs, and it occurred in my life, when money dominates us. (Balbir was, at one time, a successful consultant, negotiating joint ventures between U.S. companies and firms overseas). Once we understand that we can deal with it on a day to day basis.

I do not consider my work to be any more important than any other work or if it does not take place, the world will come to an end. I let people know what we are doing, and then whatever comes is put to use. But we will do irrespective of whether or not there is money.

Balbir calls the process “Knocking gently on the door” and I saw in it action. I interviewed Balbir during a weekend when the two of us were visiting Frederic Back, the artist who made the film The Man Who Planted Trees. Sunday morning we visited Frederic's daughter, Suzel, and her husband. When we got there, Suzel showed us some of the beautiful murals of dyed fabric she had made. Balbir told us of the long history of batik in India. After seeing her work, he described the involvement of  Trees for Life in leper colonies in India. Skills like hers are badly needed in India, he said. A school could be set up and and expensive fabrics produced for the garment industry. The dance, as Balbir calls it, is worthwhile. Several months after our meeting, I received a letter from Frederic saying Suzel is going to India to teach.

The whole life of these trees is to serve. With their leaves, flowers, fruits, branches, roots, shade, fragrance, sap, bark, wood, and finally even their ashes and coal, they exist for the purpose of others.
- Srimad Bhagavatam

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From Issue 20:

After returning from the woods, I went to Wichita to spend a week with my guru and Heron Dance director, Balbir Mathur. Balbir and his wife Treva kindly put me up in their home. In the early morning darkness, Balbir and I would go out for walks. Balbir wouldn't offer advice, but would share perspectives. I call him my guru because he challenges me -- forces me to examine my assumptions, my motivations, and the boundaries of my thought processes.

Fourteen years ago, Balbir founded Trees for Life in an office loaned by his wife's church. For the first several years he and his wife persevered on almost no money. Since then, the organization has orchestrated the planting of tens of millions of fruit trees in rural third world communities, and touched millions of lives.

“The dance of Trees for Life,” Balbir says, “is empowerment.” Their means is communication -- the sharing of medical information, information on how to establish tree nurseries and grow fruit trees and on the construction and operation of schools. Their purpose is not to help, but to accompany people on their journey. If the rural villagers in India or Guatemala that Trees for Life comes into contact with want to escape the cycle of poverty and illiteracy, Trees for Life can provide some tools for them to do that, or tools to make the tools.

Trees for Life is staffed mostly by volunteers who also live together in The Treehouse—a house rented by Trees for Life. Not only do many work and live together, they sometimes also get together to socialize and sing, or to worship on Sunday, although they come from a variety of different religious traditions including Hindu, agnostic, Brethren, Mennonite, Roman Catholic and Baha'i. Every morning starts with a meeting at which a silent prayer and hugs are shared. “Our work comes after, comes out of, our spiritual life,” says Balbir. A palpable undercurrent of good energy pervades their work and relations with each other.

It surprised me when people at Trees for Life said they work there not to change the world, or fight world hunger, but because there they are given freedom to develop their potential. From Balbir they receive the constructive criticism that forces them to constantly grow, to explore new realities. One or two described working with Balbir as 'having sandpaper constantly rubbed against your face.'

In Wichita, in a school building rented to Trees for Life by the city for ten dollars a year, they produce videos, are involved in animation, the preparation of posters, web sites and other educational material. They create communication tools that can be easily adapted by remote villages in Third World countries so that those villages can then pass the information on to other villages, and so on. They see the internet as a potentially powerful tool in that process. A website that shows how to build and operate a tree nursery, for instance, is being designed in Wichita in a way that it can then be adapted by people in Africa and India to their own languages and cultures, so that ultimately the information will be widespread. One tells two who tell two more, and so on. That is how all those trees got planted.

Early in my week there, Balbir told me that he is constantly checking with himself: “I am not master, I am servant. When I am doing work that is based on what I want people to have, or do, the work fails and should fail. I am here to offer what others recognize as important.”

When I asked him if that applied not only to rural villagers in India, but also to donors and the people who work at Trees for Life, he agreed. “What kind of stage should I build,” he said, “and how can I build it, that will enable people to do their own unique dance?” The low-key, accepting way that Trees for Life relates to the world is responsible, in large part I think, for the widespread support it gets from people and institutions that have benefited from the System.

I asked Balbir several questions about the “dance”, about innovation and creativity. These are some of his comments:
“To us, the dance of the spirit is most important. It is the manifestation of the immense latent possibilities that exist within us. That edge, that cusp where this process takes place, where this battle takes place, where this tension takes place, is what I am interested in. It is a state of diving into our subconscious. The cusp between the conscious and the subconscious—that gray area—is where creativity happens.

“The sculptor has an idea and takes ordinary clay and creates something unique. You write and you draw. That is a manifestation of the spirit. I can't paint. I can't sculpt or sketch or draw a straight line. I am not an artist. My job is to provide a stage where innovative people can express their innovation, express their dance. Each one is doing their dance in their own way....

“For us, creativity is not an intellectual exercise. Everything that we do has the intent of some action, of introducing some innovative process. Some are creating videos. Others are renovating this school building.” (Contractors estimated that the cost of renovating the school would be $500,000. Trees for Life is doing the work, including constructing living quarters for volunteers, with donated materials and volunteer labor.)

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